HTTYD AU
by Jayalaw
Summary: HTTYD was based on a book series, with a younger Hiccup who taught himself to talk to dragons. This is a series of one-shots detailing how different things would have been if book Hiccup had been in the movie universe.
1. Talking to Dragons

_How to Train Your Dragon was based off a book series by Cressida Cowell, featuring a smaller Hiccup who taught himself to speak to dragons. He doesn't stutter as he does here, and he's quite a hero, but he would have ended events in the movie differently . . ._

Astrid had faced many things, but the chief's disapproval was not one of them.

"I don't understand," Stoick said, angry and shocked. He had been drinking a tankard of mead in celebration, and several drops fell from his beard. "How did this happen?"

She didn't look at the chief, who stood at the smithy entrance. She didn't look at the Village Elder, who leaned on her cane. She looked at the book in Gobber's arms, the one she had taken forcibly from the chief's son.

Few in the village had thought little Hiccup would have amounted to anything. He wasn't even the firstborn; Stoick had lost his eldest son, who was also a runt, at birth, and his wife had been in a coma for months. She had given him a second baby four years later, at the same time Astrid had started swinging her first ax, and then took off questing.

People had expected the little runt to cause trouble, and he did. Just not the kind of trouble that burned villages down, as a few had predicted. Hiccup was quiet, and he tended to watch others. His eyes held intelligence and restraint, sometimes even warmth. He listened to his father, stayed in the smithy and helped Gobber, and NEVER left the buildings during a dragon raid. No, Hiccup's trouble was that he had never made a name for himself. He just was the chief's son, quiet and obedient. He was plain boring.

The boring Hiccup hadn't frustrated Astrid. No, what had frustrated her was his adoration of her. Oh, he had never talked. The one time he had tried, she had told him to shut up. That had been when he was a toddler. He hadn't spoken to her since, though the adoration in his eyes had remained. He had imitated her swagger, had tried to swing axes the way she had. She had kept telling him to bugger off.

Dragon Training had ended that. He was four years younger than the rest of the class, but Stoick had insisted on his son joining. The chief had planned one last search for the Nest, and he had worried when Hiccup had begged him not to leave, had wanted to come on the journey.

Astrid had learned several things that day. One was that she sucked at somersault dives. Two, that Hiccup was speedy for his size. He had managed to hold out against the Gronckle as long as she had, dodging and rolling away his shield so that it wouldn't get blasted. Gobber had yelled at Hiccup for not using the shield to protect himself, even though technically he had tied with Astrid.

The next few classes had gone downhill from there. Astrid had beaten the Nadder, true, but Hiccup and Fishlegs had teamed up to take down the Zippleback, Fishlegs tossing Hiccup and the bucket so that the water had hit the head with the spark. Fishlegs had given all the credit for Hiccup thinking of it. Astrid had glared at them the whole evening after.

Hiccup had then started hanging out with the dragons after classes, ostensibly to observe them, take notes, and even converse. At least, that's what Astrid had noticed during the few times she had noticed him straggling behind. She had even heard him mimicking their hisses.

For all that observation, she hadn't figured out how the dragons got tamer. The Gronckle had refused to fire at the small child after he had tossed her a large cod, and the same happened with the Nadder. Gods, that had been embarrassing, what with Hiccup offering peace instead of violence with his hands. The Terrible Terror had even crawled up his arm and tickled him with its tongue. He had spoken to it with hisses, stroking its wings.

Stoick had returned and had expressed his pride, and Hiccup had been chosen to slay the Nightmare. It hadn't been Hiccup's fault; he had been hiding behind a wood barrier, ready to let Astrid charge the Gronckle. But it had found him and started snuggling up; he had never looked more apologetic as she had thrown a tantrum in the Kill Ring.

Something had snapped in her, and she had sought him out. He had been having a panic attack soon after by the dragon cages, hissing frantically to the Terrible Terror. First, it was out of its cage. Second, it wasn't listening, the way it was preening its wings. He occasionally broke into stammering English, trying to practice something, only to crumple into a heap.

He would have run if she had screamed his name. So instead, she had approached from the exit and blocked it.

"Hiccup."

He had looked up, jumped to his feet and tried to dust himself off. The Terror fluttered to the ground and crouched, ready to spring.

"You've been keeping secrets," she said, and her words sounded like hisses now. "I want to know what's going on."

His mouth opened. No sound came out as he started to back toward the nearest closed cage. The Terror growled at her as Hiccup retreated.

"Are you training with someone?" she asked.

Hiccup was cornered against the cage bars. There was a sound of shifting paper. His hand dug into his vest, where a book was. The same book he had been using to take notes. That's when she knew.

"Give it to me." She came closer, axe at the ready.

"A-Astrid. A-Astrid." How long it had been since he had talked to her. "Please. It's- you said I couldn't talk to you."

"That was ten years ago!" she snapped. "I'm ordering you to talk to me now. Give me that book!"

Obedience almost won out; he reached in to remove it from his vest. The Terror's growl made him stop.

"Why?"

"I want to read it. I want to know what you've learned."

The Terror kept growling, almost giving words. Hiccup listened but remained frozen in place.

"No."

"No?" Astrid raised her axe. The Terror gave a screech that made the other dragons' cages rattle. "Why not?"

"Not finished. Y-you'd l-laugh. I was - was going to show Dad when there was more proof."

"More proof of what?"

"The dragons. Can be trained." This was barely a whisper. "I n-n-need time. NO one can read."

She kept coming closer. He didn't move an inch. Astrid was blocking his exit route, and she could see him imagining what she was going to do with her axe. He could either give her the book or attempt a sprint.

He was a smart boy, Astrid have to give him that. But he wasn't being smart at the moment. He wasn't taking out the book.

The Terror made the decision for him. It leaped in front of him and growled at Astrid protectively. Hiccup hissed at it, but it didn't listen.

"Astrid, please." It was barely a whisper. "It's n-n-not ready. _I'm_ not ready. I was going to talk to Dad, and Gothi."

"About what?" she asked sharply.

"To let you kill . . ." his voice trailed off. "I d-didn't mean to . . . you deserve it. The Nightmare. Gothi will listen. She will."

"You think . . ." Her tone became infuriated. "You think you can just HAND me the honor? To keep me quiet about your little secret?"

"No!" The shout was a pathetic cry. "No, no."

There was a foot of space between them. The Terror's eyes were on her axe blade. She could handle it.

Hiccup started hissing at the Terror again. He was giving it an order, perhaps to run. His hisses sounded fearful.

The dragon didn't listen.

_Why WOULD it listen to a runt like him? _Astrid thought. _Dragons never obeyed the small and weak. They only obeyed the call of violence._

It attacked when she attempted to grab for Hiccup's hair. One calculated fireball, at her axe hand. She swore and rolled away.

"Toothless, no!" Hiccup cried, but it was too late. The Terror flew to bite her weapon arm, and she recovered. The blunt end caught the dragon in the stomach; she sent it flying into the wall. The other caged beasts started to shriek.

Hiccup ran for the dragon, but Astrid caught him first. She tackled him to the ground, dropping her axe. He gave a grunt as his knees hit the rock floor. One hand twisted his arm behind his back, his left arm, and the other was searching.

"Stop," he was whispering. "Don't."

Too late. She the book in her hands. It was cool to the touch, smeared with charcoal. She let him go then, left him splayed on the grounds. She flipped through it, saw his careful handwriting.

Hiccup's face broke. He looked betrayed, hurt, violated as she read his notes on Dragonese. But he didn't fight her for it. His eyes turned to the limp Terror, which squeaked faintly. Then he crawled toward it, one hand at a time.

"What's going on?" Gobber came in. "What happened between you two?"

"Ask her." Hiccup's voice attempted to be cold, but it cracked instead as he took off his vest and wrapped the Terror in it. Then, using the wall as a support, he made himself stand up. He wobbled and winced. Gobber adopted a concerned look.

"Hiccup, you look like you sprained your ankle. You shouldn't be putting weight on it."

"I'm fine," Hiccup said with gritted teeth. He was biting his lips against the pain, pressing his fingers to the Terror's chest. Slowly, he started making his way outside the Ring. "I'm always fine."

Astrid looked up from the book, from the incomplete notes. Something had changed in Hiccup; it wasn't just the limping. He seemed to have aged years in mere moments. His normally large, curious eyes narrowed.

"Hiccup, your ankle-" Gobber started to say again.

"Hang my ankle!" Hiccup shouted. "Hang everything!"

That made Gobber stop, and that was when Astrid realized that things were wrong. Really, really wrong. Hiccup had NEVER shouted during his brief life on Berk.

"Hiccup-" She started.

"Don't." He cut her off. "Don't. Talk. To. Me"

She had hurt him, and that bothered her. Astrid wasn't a mean Viking who enjoyed pain for the fun of it.

She came towards him, more slowly. He shifted the Terror's weight to one arm and kept backing away, only with more purpose. His free hand reached into his vest again.

"You have the book," he said, voice still cracking. "You got what you wanted. Like you always do."

"That's not called for," she said sharply, walking closer. "You were withholding information-"

He pulled out his hunting knife, with his left hand. She stopped, having never seen him draw it before. He had a firm grip on it, fingers all in the right place, and ready to throw it.

"Just leave me alone!" he shouted. "G-go kill the Nightmare! R-r-r-read th-that blasted notebook! Do what you want!"

The knife sailed from his hands. It missed Astrid's left ear by an inch and crashed against the rock wall. Then it sank to the ground. Gods, he had AIM.

When she recovered from the near-knifing, Hiccup took the opportunity to sprint. His gasps of pain faded, as did his grunts when managing the injured Terror. Gobber with his one leg couldn't have caught him, and Astrid would have if Gobber hadn't grabbed her with his hook hand. He must not have been worried about Hiccup going too far, because Hiccup wasn't stupid. He wouldn't travel somewhere deserted because of his sprained ankle.

So that was how she had ended up in front of the chief, trying to explain how she had scared his son off after taking his book from him. Gobber had the little journal now, tucked into his belt. He had chewed the end of his beard with unmistakable disapproval.

Stoick's expression was frozen anger, a mask for his fear. He only asked one cold question.

"If you had a problem with Hiccup's progress in Dragon Training, why didn't you come to me? Or to Gothi? Why confront him?"

_Because I accept the chief's word as law._

Stoick moved on from her. He called to Spitelout, to arrange for a search party. Hiccup was a smart boy, but he wouldn't get far on an injured leg. He'd be an easy target for a raiding dragon.

"We don't know why he took the Terrible Terror with him, but we can ask him when we find him," he said. "Before moonrise."

Through these orders, the chief didn't make eye contact with Astrid. He treated the space that she occupied as if it held something repulsive.

"Lass, I don't think you understand," Gobber said. He was never one to mince words. "Hiccup's mother gave him that book when she was here last. One of the few gifts from her travels."

He opened to the first page, which had a flowing inscription. Val's handwriting was elegant for a questing Viking. She had written a message that Hiccup must have taken to heart.

_Observe everything. Question everything. Find the beauty in every answer. _

Astrid swallowed. Her fingers were covered in charcoal. Gobber turned the pages to find non-dragon observations. There were short thoughts, drawings of bones and Berk, even a sketch of Astrid. It wasn't proportionally correct, given the book's size, but it showed her arm making a perfect arc when swinging an axe. He had captured the way sunlight rippled across her face, using rough charcoal to shade. On the page adjacent to Astrid's likeness, there were notes in list form.

_1. Do not talk to her._

_2. Sharpen her axe when it needs repairs. Favors her right side in hand-to-hand combat, so account for weight differences._

_3. Stay out of the fire brigade's way. They need to put out the flames, speedily._

_4. Keep her happy. Give her what she wants._

_5. Don't talk to her. Aim to please._

"He was careful with what he noted down," Gobber remarked. "Been three years since Val last landed on Berk, and the book's only three-quarters full. He must had recorded only what he considered important."

Astrid hid her feelings. Part of her felt creeped out that Hiccup had taken notes on her, as if she were one of the dragons he was studying. Another part twinged, thinking of how betrayed he had looked when she had taken the book.

_Give her what she wants._

* * *

Stoick came back from the search party that evening, practically chewing his beard off. They hadn't found Hiccup, not even any trace of his dragging footprints after he had entered the woods. Hiccup was apparently good at hiding himself, or getting ridiculously lost in Berk's forests.

Some villagers voiced hopes that the runt would perish. Astrid found herself hoping he was hiding. She didn't know why, or why mentioning Hiccup's name made her stomach twinge.

The chief postponed the Monstrous Nightmare's date with death. He went into his house, came out with an armful maps and headed to the mead hall with Spitelout and Gobber. Astrid noticed him unrolling one for the three of them to ponder.

"He'll survive the night, Stoick," Gobber said. "If he can hide from us, then he can hide from dragons."

"But his ankle, Gobber, if it's sprained-"

"He'll be putting weight on it, yes. But there's nothing we can do. We can only hope he's fashioned a splint and cane for himself, and that he's found a place to prop it. But not like he's bleeding his guts out."

Astrid busied herself with wiping her axe. The other teens came around her, asking why Hiccup had gone missing. They didn't criticize her decision, though Snotlout laughed at the idea of Hiccup getting knocked down so easily. The twins didn't care about Hiccup's position one way or the other, only in the sizzling details. Fishlegs looked concerned.

Two days passed. In those two days Stoick's anger had given way to solid fear and confusion. Hiccup was _never_ disobedient, and he _never _caused trouble. He and Gobber consulted Gothi, who told them through pictures that Hiccup would come back of his own volition, that he hadn't left the island and that he was alive. She wouldn't tell them why he had run off, however.

Astrid and Fishlegs volunteered for the evening search parties, Fishlegs because he seemed to have a soft spot and Astrid because she wanted to get rid of the twinging in her stomach. No success, despite Astrid's quiet footsteps and Fishlegs's obvious concern for the "little guy" as he called Hiccup.

Then he reappeared. Quietly. First, Gobber noticed that the Terror was back in its cage one afternoon, wing healed, and snappy as ever. Like it had never left. Seeing that, he sprinted out, seeing a limping shadow with a wooden stick head towards the chief's house. The shadow's left ankle was swollen and purple, looked twisted at an odd angle. Hiccup had turned, seen Gobber, and tried to demonstrate that he was fine by walking. He had ended up collapsing into the smith's arms, sweating and unable to move further. At least, that's how Gobber described it over a tankard of mead, eyes wide and hook hand gesturing.

Stoick had been out with the recent search party; Gobber had to blow the village horn to bring him back. Astrid had been with the other teens, practicing the little hisses that Hiccup had rendered phonetically in his book. She had leaped to her feet when she heard that Hiccup was back. A crowd had gathered around the chief's house, as Gobber and Stoick argued outside.

"I want to go in and see him!"

"He's fine. A bit feverish and lamed, but he'll recover with some rest. I wouldn't be too hard on him until he's more coherent."

"Wouldn't be too hard on him? Gobber, he's been gone for three days! On purpose! All to hide one dragon!"

"You can't lecture him if he doesn't understand you," Gobber pointed out. "And he came back once the dragon was better."

"Why? Why would he care more about that beast than doing right by the village?"

"Search me. You'll have to ask him when he recovers. Not like he's going to be leaving any time soon."

* * *

Hiccup didn't leave the house for days. In time people stopped asking the chief when the Nightmare would be killed, and who would kill it. Rumors passed around that Gobber's care helped quell the fever as well as Stoick's temper, so that Hiccup could explain. That was why when he faced the Nightmare, it was before dawn, without a crowd and Hiccup tamed it with a few choice words. By evening he was riding it, without effort.

Despite that victory, and what it meant for the village, Hiccup had changed when he came out at last, leaning on makeshift crutches. He delivered perfunctory greetings, answered questions, and expressed nothing. His swagger became stiffer and his stutter more pronounced, not helped by his injury. His eyes lost their warmth when they landed on Astrid's curious gaze.

She decided to do something about it. He rarely left the smithy, except to visit the Terror. It became tame enough that it would walk through the village without setting any houses on fire. People were amazed, but he'd only relax around the beast, expressing his fears, joys, and despair in Dragonese. Astrid was the only teen who had mastered the basics, barely, though Fishlegs hissed laboriously.

Early afternoon, Astrid went to the smithy. He was sitting on a stool in the backroom, rubbing his lame foot. His ankle had broken at some point during his forest adventure; he had to use the crutches and a cast. Gobber remarked he was lucky not to have lost his foot. The Terror hopped on the table in front of him, chattering. He responded with sarcasm, kept wincing.

She came in quietly, but Hiccup heard her footsteps. He tried to leap to his feet, but found that he couldn't, not with his leg in a primitive, foul-smelling cast.

"Astrid." His voice held no emotion apart from a twinge as he jostled his foot. "W-what c-c-c-can I do for you?"

The Terror didn't want her there, but it didn't attack. It instead hissed insults from the table, ready to curl into a pounce. Hiccup made a remark for it to calm down, but it didn't listen. Astrid held out her arms, to show she had no weapons.

"We need to talk."

"No." Hiccup's voice was firmer than she had ever heard it. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbed for the wall and his crutches. Astrid went to help him, seeing his arms shake. The Terror leaped between them, crouched and ready to breathe fire.

"Come on!" she cried. "I'm trying to apologize! I'm trying to say sorry."

"Ha!" It was a bitter sound, coming from Hiccup's throat. "S-s-sorry, m-my f-f-f-oot."

The Terror couldn't help but give a dragon-like chuckle through its anger. Astrid hid back her inappropriate laugh.

Hiccup hoisted himself onto his crutches. His stutter became worse, as he wobbled.

"Y-y-you aren't s-s-orry about h-h-h-h-urting T-t-t-toothless. Just f-f-f-feeling g-guilty."

"Hiccup, your dragon attacked me," Astrid pointed out. "I was reacting the way a normal Viking would."

Toothless growled at her. Hiccup's face broke again, and Astrid realized what she had said.

"Y-y-yeah. N-n-n-normal. I w-was t-tr-trying to m-make things right. And y-y-you kn-knocked me to the g-ground!" His eyes seemed full of angry tears, as he tried to talk clearly. "I w-w-was g-going to g-g-give you what you w-w-wanted!"

"You honestly thought that after you earned the honor of killing the Nightmare that I'd accept a handout of the Victory?" Astrid knew she should shut up, but she had to ask. "That's not what Vikings do."

"H-h-how w-w-was I . . ." He swallowed and tried again, speaking the words slowly. "How. Was. I. S-s-supposed. To. Know? There's. No. Viking. E-Etiquette. Manual."

He wasn't sarcastic; Astrid looked into his face to confirm the sincerity. He really hadn't known that Vikings didn't make things right by restoring rewards to people who deserved them. For all his observing, he hadn't seen that.

"So. I'm. Not. A. V-Viking." His voice cracked on the last word. "I. Know. That. Now."

The Terror backed her away from the door with growls. Hiccup used his crutches to limp past her. She would have gone to him, except for the blade hanging from his waist and the Terror threatening to fire.

This was going to take more time than she thought. He didn't trust her. He didn't like her that way anymore, with that admiration.

Part of her wondered if she should bother, if it was worth trying to win his trust back. He wasn't a proper Viking for starters, what with his small stature and polite demeanor. By now Gobber ought to have given back his book, before she had even gotten time to peruse it properly.

The other part chided her for thinking such a thing. She had to get back into the chief's good graces, after all, and while Hiccup had chosen to run off to protect his dragon, she had given him the reason to leave.

She visited the smithy day after day, usually with peace offerings. A set of charcoal pencils she had whittled and charred herself. A basket of mackerel for Toothless. Hiccup thanked her for each gift, but would break down or leave if she tried to talk. Toothless ate the mackerel but still hissed at her.

They had a breakthrough when she brought a plain book for him, her latest apology. Sometimes he'd even write down his thoughts, when his stutter became too strong. He'd write on sheets of parchment, as if using books were too painful. She hadn't seen him open his mother's book in days. His handwriting remained neat, though his words were angry and hurt.

_I never meant to upstage you. Dad made me promise to do my best in Dragon Training, after I begged him to let me go with him to find the nest, and I did. I didn't think Gothi would choose the village runt to kill the Monstrous Nightmare. _

On another day, when she got up the courage to ask why he had run, he had written the following:

_Toothless's wing was broken in one place, and he wasn't stirring. I was scared that Dad or Gobber would kill Toothless, to put him out of his misery, so I took him to the woods. He went into Healing Hibernation, only awakening for the occasional bite of mackerel. Fortunately dragons heal fast, when there's someone to care for them._

Astrid had swallowed on reading this. Hiccup must have developed a strong bond with the Terror, to protect him like that. One off-hand remark about him using sheets of paper led to one painful confession:

_ I can't write in that notebook anymore. It feels dirty, soiled, now that others have read it and smeared the charcoal. I put three years of my life into that book, and it was out in the open for others to peruse. _

This one made Astrid initiate the leaving, walking out of the smithy with heavy steps. She couldn't handle the feelings streaming through her shaking frame. Part of her wanted to strangle Hiccup for his idiotic feelings, and she didn't know if strangling was a wise idea with the progress they had been making.

His ankle healed. Soon he could walk without crutches. During raids he would fly on the Nightmare, talk to the invading dragons. Some he could reason with into leaving the island, into giving away information. The Night Fury proved more elusive, but Toothless distracted it with well-chosen taunts, giving Hiccup time to leap from the Nightmare onto its black back and whisper into its ear. He only needed to hiss in Dragonese, and the beast listened to him. He wrote about it afterward, when Astrid came to see him.

_I was scared out of my mind that he was going to throw me off, but the Night Fury is intelligent. He saw that I meant no harm, and he believed me when I said he was free. Dad's wary of the Night Fury, but the dragon is fairly friendly if you speak politely to him. He also likes getting lots of cod and getting scratched under the chin._

People spoke in hushed tones afterward how Hiccup had tamed the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death with his bare hands. Hiccup blushed at the attention, said that he hadn't done anything special; no one could understand his stutters. Hiccup named the Night Fury Windwalker, after seeing it glide through the clouds. Windwalker and little Toothless didn't get along, but Toothless stopped provoking the larger dragon after receiving a purple fireball to the mouth.

They learned much more from captured dragons, or those who stayed on Berk after talking to Hiccup. The village learned that the dragons were under a thrall, that a queen reptile controlled them with a hypnotic croon. Or at least, the dragons assumed it was a queen. None of them had bothered to check their master's genitals. But in any case, the queen was always hungry, and she demanded food. Several different dragons, including Windwalker, corroborated the story. His handwriting became shaky when noting this:

_Perhaps this queen can be reasoned with. I doubt it, given her greed, but if we can keep her contained in the mountain, since she seems to be trapped, then there should be nothing to worry about. In theory. _

Hiccup came up with a plan for defeating the queen. It was risky, given it involved making the queen's hypnotized army leave before they killed her, to save as many dragons as possible and to reduce potential casualties with the Vikings. Hiccup would have to serve as the distraction, since he was the only Viking who could carry a conversation in Dragonese.

Astrid spoke up for Hiccup at the council meeting, because he stammered as Spitelout and others asked questions. Mildew was particularly cutting, asking why the village should put their fate in one boy's hands. Stoick objected to Hiccup endangering himself, even if riding Windwalker into the mountain and being able to fly out at the moment's notice.

As Hiccup blushed into silence, unable to handle all these objections, Astrid stepped forward. She swung her axe and lodged it in the middle of the table. That got everyone's attention.

Astrid spoke with crisp, honest rhetoric. She pointed out the practicality of his plan, since dragons were useful allies and Hiccup was the most fluent in Dragonese. The Night Fury was the fastest dragon and therefore the most likely to get a hit on the queen while keeping the chief's son intact. Besides which, Windwalker was loyal to Hiccup and was waiting on the mead hall outside; he could be trusted.

Hiccup watched her with an open mouth, from where he stood by his father. He was wearing a helmet Stoick had given him, an over-sized trinket make from Valhallarama's breast plate. Toothless was taking a nap on his head, filling the gap between the boy's hair and his helmet. A good thing, too, or the metal rim would have gone over his eyes. That's what had happened that day when Gothi had chosen him, as he had curled behind a wooden bench.

She didn't know if her words meant much, but at least they stopped badgering Hiccup. The villagers refrained from arguing amongst themselves. Mildew knew better than to challenge a shield-maiden. The council broke so that everyone could get an early night's sleep, in case they needed strength to fend off another raid.

Hiccup went to Windwalker, trying to not talk to the Vikings eager for him to reiterate his plan. The Night Fury leaped off the mead hall roof and curled around him. Hiccup spoke to the dragon with low, soothing hisses, telling him how the meeting went. Windwalker wasn't stupid, however; he was providing his own commentary on the situation. From the tone of his Dragonese, he sounded dismissive of the other Vikings.

Astrid approached. Hiccup looked up. He didn't look hostile, but he didn't smile either. He looked perplexed.

"I did it because you do have a good plan, if a crazy one," she said. "Because you needed someone to speak for you. If we're going to die facing this queen, we may as well die with our best foot forward."

He now looked skeptical.

"I don't care if it takes years for you to get this," Astrid went on. "We both made mistakes at the beginning. But we're also making amends. I am going to keep making them until you realize that I didn't want that day to happen, that if I could go back and redo it, I would. I would have found a way to make things easier for you, to tell your dad, without hurting your dragons."

Toothless didn't hiss. That was a first. Hiccup relaxed. So did Astrid. Windwalker yawned.

Hiccup took his hands off the Night Fury and pulled out his plain book. Then somehow she was holding it, and he was scurrying off into the night, talking to Toothless. She could have sworn that she heard him mutter his thanks.

Afterward, when trying to recall the battle with the Green Death, when the great dragon had tried to swallow Hiccup and only Toothless and the Windwalker's teamwork had saved the small Viking, Astrid's clearest memory would be those small hands pressing the book into her hands. Not his mother's journal; he would only resume using that after waking up from the battle, learning that they had won and his plan had worked.

Astrid turned to the page. Several runes in the center, a scant paragraph. Words that should have meant nothing, but meant as much as several golden axes.

_We need to get you a dragon, for the battle, so that the other teens have an example. A Deadly Nadder will be a good fit. _


	2. Whispering to Dragons

_Sequel to "Talking to Dragons" In this AU, the book version of Hiccup functions on movie Hiccup's place. Enjoy this yarn . . ._

* * *

_Oh for Thor's sake! _Hiccup thought, seeing the Outcast soldiers surrounding Bucket and Mulch. _They had to get caught. It had to be Bucket and Mulch._

It had been several months since Hiccup had defeated the dragon queen with help from his friends Windwalker and Toothless. Heroes had often done similar deeds, with help from allies. What made Hiccup's victory unusual was that his allies had been dragons, a Night Fury and disobedient Terrible Terror. He had also won without swinging an axe or a hammer, not that he could have. He had done it by teaching himself Dragonese, the language for all winged reptiles, and lying to the queen.

With the queen and her hypnotic call gone, the dragons had reveled in their freedom. They had come to Berk in droves to thank the small funny-looking boy who had killed their tyrant. People had panicked, had tried to fight back.

Now the wild dragons had left Berk, taking their wilder brethren with them. Their leader, a vain blue Nadder, had told Hiccup that he did not believe that dragons and humans could live together.

_"We cannot cast off our claws and fire, and you cannot shed your armor for that purpose," _the Nadder had told Hiccup with silky hisses. _"And while you are a great ambassador, you are a flightless fledgling, a mere child. We need an actual king. We will seek him out and beg for his wise rule."_

That had hurt, but Hiccup had seen the Nadder's point. He had had a hard enough time mediating peace between the tamer dragons that had elected to stay, including his own Windwalker and Toothless, and the suspicious people of Berk. Mildew, the oldest Viking on the island, had been particularly cutting when pointing out the property damage and loss of crops. Hiccup had hoped that with only a smaller number of dragons, the ones that had been used to train the youth for war, that coexistence was possible.

He had also hoped to cooperate with Mildew, because you couldn't alienate one person on an island because he disagreed with you. He had asked the dragons and their riders to respect the man's side of the island, had listened to every complaint and addressed them, and treated the older man with courtesy. For a while, he thought he had succeeded.

But Hiccup hadn't. Come a few months later, the tame dragons were accused of messing up the adult Vikings' boots and clawing up the mead hall. Hiccup had insisted that dragons did not lie, the tame dragons could not have torn up things valuable for the village, and wild dragons had kept good on their word to not return to Berk. But then the armory, laden to the brim with weapons to repair, had blown up with Windwalker in it, and a mob had forced Stoick to exile the tame dragons. The beasts knew, already; Windwalker had licked his wounds, allowed Toothless to ride on him, and led the others to fly at sunset.

_"We will be on Dragon Island, because you will need us," _Windwalker had said. _"You know we are innocent, but your elders do not."_

_"T-t-toothless doesn't w-want to leave!"_ The Terrible Terror had protested. _"Who w-w-w-ill f-f-eed T-t-toothless on Dragon I-Island?"_

_"I'll teach you to fish, you lazy reptile. And it won't be for forever." _

Toothless and Windwalker agreed to disagree at the best of times. That Windwalker was comforting Toothless showed how badly they were taking the exile.

That day, Hiccup had refused to come home. He wouldn't have been able to face his father without shouting at him, without breaking down into stutters. He had wandered the island in shock, darting in and out of the woods and trying to ignore the empty space in his helmet that Toothless had once occupied. That was when, from behind a tree trunk, he had seen Mildew drop dragon limbs into the water.

Mildew had framed the dragons. Despite Hiccup's efforts to accommodate the old man's needs, it hadn't been enough.

Anger had given way to cold reasoning. Hiccup had tried to retrieve the limbs. He had slid to the beach, stripped off his vest and tunic, and dove into the waves. The water had chilled him to the bone, was murky with salt and black sludge. His left ankle twinged, remembering how it had snapped months ago in the woods. Yet he had kept searching, ignoring the numbness creeping over his limbs and his fading strength. He had only given up when darkness had fallen, barely making it to the shore. Failure and fatigue weighed him down on the cold sand.

_Windwalker could have found the limbs. If he had stayed._

"Hiccup, I know you're upset about the dragons," Gobber had said later, wrapping a sodden and shivering Hiccup in hot blankets and giving him mead to drink. "But I wouldn't go on mad dashes or suicidal swims just to make a point."

Hiccup had managed to explain about the dragon limbs, about trying to recover the evidence. His chattering teeth and nervous stammer made it difficult to explain, but Gobber had understood. Gobber had quelled Stoick's rage and fear so that instead, his dad had said words tinged with exasperation and fear.

"I understand why you were upset and tried to retrieve the evidence. But Hiccup, you can't be putting other people and dragons above yourself! It was a miracle you didn't drown or freeze to death. Promise me you won't do anything this stupid again."

Hiccup had closed his eyes. He had still felt betrayed about his dad banishing the dragons, for giving in to the mob believing that Windwalker was capable of destroying beloved weapons.

"Promise me, Hiccup. I nearly died when you hid out in the woods, and when you faced the dragon queen. If anything ever happened to you. . ."

His dad had made a choking sound. Gobber had patted Stoick with his hook hand.

"I'll try," Hiccup had whispered, just to stop his father from expressing emotions. Stoick the Vast couldn't show fear, after all, or grief. It was bad enough when Mom's letters came from Trader Johann, not saying where she was or when she was coming back.

And yet here Hiccup was now, watching the Outcasts from the woods, and forming an outline of a plan in his mind. It involved putting himself in danger, offering himself up to the enemy so that they wouldn't go after the hostages. He wouldn't have done it, if not for running into a soaked, shivering Fishlegs who had given him crucial information.

"Alvin's looking for you. He's looking for the 'Dragon Conqueror.'"

Most Vikings would have killed for a title like that. Hiccup would have killed to strip that title away from his legacy. He had outsmarted the queen, but CONQUERED a dragon? More like reasoned with them, negotiated with them. He hadn't even been able to keep them on Berk.

Fishlegs was getting his dad, to warn him of Alvin's intentions. Hiccup had hoped to warn Bucket and Mulch, who were escorting small children and the elderly to the caves by the beach. He hadn't arrived in time, however, thanks to that toy lamb wrapped around Bucket's shoulders. In time they'd reach the beach, take hostages. Astrid was there, but she only had a small hatchet- Alvin's old hatchet- and the twins for backup. Snotlout had his club, but even if they worked together they'd be outnumbered.

Hiccup couldn't let the Outcasts reach the beach. As he darted through the woods, getting ahead of Bucket and Mulch's armed escort, he considered knifing Alvin between the eyes. He had decent aim, and the Outcast wouldn't see it coming from the trees. The distraction would give Bucket and Mulch time to run.

He put that idea out of mind. Alvin was four times as large as him, and seemed to have quick reflexes judging by his cautious march. If the Outcast chief caught the blade, he'd know that someone was in the woods wanting to kill him. Even if he didn't, the guard would panic, and Bucket and Mulch would get hurt. No, Hiccup had to take the nonviolent approach.

His dad was going to KILL him.

He stepped onto the path, out of the woods. His boots made no sound, and he leaned against a rock by the dirt path. He relaxed his body and took out his smallest blade.

The Outcasts stopped with their hostages. Hiccup cleaned his nails with the knife, trying to act as if he didn't care that several large men were armed and able to snap him in two.

"You. What are you doing here?" One of the guards shouted.

Hiccup looked up. Fear pooled in his stomach. Alvin seemed larger now that he was closer, more menacing. He marched forward with a smirk.

"Hiccup!" Mulch exclaimed. "What are you doing? Get out of here!"

Instinct told Hiccup to run. Still, he stood his ground. Alvin came closer.

"Stoick's little embarrassment. Fancy seeing you."

He flinched. _Little embarrassment? _

"Hiccup, _run_," Mulch said. "Hide in the woods. We'll be fine!"

"I don't think we will be," Bucket said.

Hiccup regained control of his face. He shrugged, returning to the business of cleaning his nails. His knees bent against the rock.

"I'm talking to you." Alvin leaned over him. Hiccup returned the blade to his vest and stood up straight. He spoke slowly, in a whisper, so that he didn't stammer.

"You're. Looking. For someone. Not. Them."

"Oh. So you know that?" Alvin gave a disingenuous smile, to show he was harmless. He wasn't with that sword in his hands. "Do you know who I'm looking for?"

"The Dragon. Conqueror," Hiccup whispered.

"Smart lad." Alvin's tone was mocking. "Surely you know one man isn't more important than the rest of the village. Tell me who the Dragon Conqueror is, and I'll let the half-wit and his friend go free."

"Hiccup, don't!" Mulch called. His voice gained fear.

This was going to be the hard part. Hiccup straightened his shoulder blades and looked the Outcast in the eye.

"I am," he said. "I am. The Dragon. Conqueror."

Bucket's mouth dropped open. Mulch moaned. And Alvin? Laughed, along with the rest of the Outcasts.

"It's true," Hiccup whispered. "I faced. The Queen. Killed her. The dragons left. Berk."

He gestured with his hands, and Alvin looked up. He didn't smell ash and brimstone. Then he turned to Bucket and Mulch.

"Is this the truth?" He jabbed a meaty finger at Hiccup. "This little runt conquered the dragons?"

Mulch met Hiccup's eyes. The boy nodded, conveying that he had a plan.

"It's true," Mulch said. "The dragons respect him. He even tamed the Night Fury, leaped on its back while it was flying."

"Stoick commissioned me to make a painting of it," Bucket blathered. "Going to hang in the Great Hall."

"I can. Prove it," Hiccup said. "On. Dragon. Island. I conquer. A dragon. You set. Them free."

He pointed at Bucket and Mulch. Alvin made a show of considering this offer. Then he gestured. A few of his men broke off from the armed guard and surrounded Hiccup. He took in their spears and hostile expressions.

"Take the boy to the ship," Alvin ordered. "The rest of you, find the rest of the village. Take as many hostages as you can."

"WHAT?" Hiccup's shout became a yelp due to his high voice. "But I- I s-said- I would-"

"I never agreed to the bargain," Alvin told him. "Why do you think my name is Treacherous?"

It was futile to run at that point, what with the Outcasts and their spears. Hiccup only tried to turn, to see the men marching Bucket and Mulch down to the beach, and he wasn't even allowed that. A hairy hand clamped down on his shoulder so that he faced forward. The fingers were each as thick as his bones.

"What are you going to do to him?" Bucket called over his shoulder. He sounded just as frightened as Hiccup felt. Mulch had to placate him, to help him stay calm.

Alvin was enjoying himself, seeing the fear and anger in Hiccup's eyes. They marched him to their ship, docked by the cove. His left ankle gave random aches, despite Gobber having proclaimed that it had healed correctly. But they must not have considered him much of a threat, precisely because he was tiny and they were stronger. They didn't even bother binding his hands or disarming him.

_Always can knife him through the eyes_, Hiccup thought._ If he doesn't take me to Dragon Island. I can also talk to a dragon and explain the situation. _

He didn't have to worry about that, however, standing under guard of two armed Outcasts. The sun rose as they sailed, casting a friendly orange glow on the water. Alvin gloated, talking about his Treacherous deeds, and expressed disappointment when Hiccup admitted to not knowing any of them.

"Dad doesn't. Talk much," he said by response, keeping his calm demeanor. "Stoick the Vast. After all."

"But your mother," Alvin acted as if he were twisting a man's broken bone when saying this. "Surely she's mentioned me?"

Hiccup shrugged. Alvin growled.

"Figures. She wouldn't want to remember the man who killed her firstborn before he even got a name."

Hiccup's mouth dropped open. His posture became rigid. No one mentioned the dead older brother, the boy who had burned in a basket pyre on the water. The boy that should have been there to help Hiccup take care of his dad's emotional needs, and to learn more about the dragons. The boy that his grandfather Old Wrinkly had wanted to live, who would have stopped the war between humans and dragons if Hiccup hadn't done so.

"Didn't know that, eh? That I killed the boy who SHOULD have been the heir to the tribe, instead of a runt like you? Tried to kill your mother as well, but she survived the blow to the heart. I was doing your dad a favor, encouraging him to have a strong and healthy son, but he didn't see it that way."

_He's lying_, Hiccup thought._ Mom's firstborn would have been a runt as well. He probably wouldn't have survived the winter._

"You better be telling the truth about being the Dragon Conqueror, son. Because the way I see it, Stoick would be better off without you."

He kept his face emotionless. Inside, however, he burned. His dad's words echoed in his head: "I nearly died when you hid out in the woods, and when you faced the dragon queen."

_Just wait till I set Windwalker on you, Alvin. Then we'll see who's gloating. _

They landed by Dragon Island, grounding the Outcast ship. Alvin marched Hiccup onto the black rocks and sand, jabbing the sword between his tiny shoulder blades.

"Not necessary," Hiccup grunted. "Not like. I can. Fight back."

That's when Windwalker had appeared, eyes curious and joyous. Toothless appeared by the dragon's black legs, screeching with obvious joy. The Outcasts raised their crossbows, but Hiccup quickly got between them and the Night Fury.

"Arrows won't. Penetrate his hide," he said. "Watch. And learn."

He walked forward, whispering in Dragonese to Windwalker.

_"These men are enemies. They've taken Berk hostage,"_ he conveyed. _"We need to annihilate them."_

Windwalker dropped his friendly demeanor. Toothless pounced on Hiccup, crawling all over him. Fortunately he was a tiny dragon, but his claws tickled as he hopped from head to shoulder, nipping his master with affection.

"You're about to see a dragon eat a boy," Alvin said gleefully from behind. "And a tiny dragon for a tiny runt! Isn't fate artistic!"

_"Toothless, stop it,"_ Hiccup giggled. _"I missed you too. But we have bad men to worry about." _

Toothless stopped, eventually. Windwalker by then had put himself between Hiccup and the Outcasts, positioning his body.

_"Annihilate?" _he confirmed.

_"Annihilate. They have catapults." _Hiccup leaped onto his back. Alvin noticed.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, charging forward with the sword.

Windwalker let loose a purple fireball. It caught Alvin in the chest and blasted him back into his men. That gave Windwalker the opportunity to take to the sky, spreading his wings.

"Great thunder of Thor, he IS the Dragon Conqueror! Fire!"

"Dragon Trainer!" Hiccup shouted in response. Windwalker released more fireballs at the ships, taking out half the catapults. Toothless darted around, shooting streams of fire at the arrows flying towards them.

_"See? T-t-t-toothless is b-brave!" _He crowed, circling to join Hiccup.

_"Look out!"_ Hiccup cried, forcing Windwalker to conduct a spin. That was because more rocks nearly them. One hit Toothless, making his flight pattern wobbly.

Hiccup rode dragons bareback, and nothing held him to the Night Fury. He felt his body twist as it fell, Windwalker diving to catch him. Nothing, however, could stop the next onslaught of arrows. Nothing except a Nadder's fire.

"Astrid!" Hiccup exclaimed as Windwalker caught him in his claws. The Night Fury sent more fire at the catapults.

"Thought we could miss out on all the fun?" She grinned. Stormfly spot spines at the Outcast ship. Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins joined them on their dragons. Hiccup also saw his father's ship mooring in, sending rocks at the Outcasts. Snotlout accidentally fired into the water, which created steam.

"Three Catapults. Left!" Hiccup shouted, pointing. "Windwalker. Needs. Opening!"

Astrid understood. She signaled the others to fire at the water. Hiccup climbed onto Windwalker's back and tried to make sure his vest didn't snag on the scales. With the white cover, Windwalker dove in and destroyed the last three catapults with well-chosen blasts. He was not a tame dragon, after all, or not as tame as the others.

That would have been the end of it, but Toothless couldn't resist diving in setting Alvin's beard on fire. He crowed the whole time while doing it. Alvin tried to grab the Terror, but Toothless evaded him. He spun around, confusing the Outcasts.

_"C-can't c-c-catch me,"_ he crowed, flitting up and down and out of reach._ "S-slow s-smelly s-s-slime ball!"_

_Oh by Thor's bloody backside! _Hiccup thought. _We could have just finished the Outcasts off by now!_

_"Do we have to?" _Windwalker sniffed, sensing Hiccup's line of thinking. _"We can't keep cleaning up after his messes."_

_"Yes, we do," _Hiccup dug his heels into Windwalker's sides. As they prepared to dive in again and rescue Toothless, however, a heavy fist crashed into the Outcast's nose. A very familiar fist.

"You're a coward, taking my son," Stoick growled. He had climbed onto the ship, to give Toothless an exit. His face was pure anger, betraying no fear.

"I take what I want, Stoick, You know that." Alvin tossed a fist in return. Stoick caught it.

"Not this time."

A fistfight started. The flames died on Alvin's face, but Toothless kept diving in and biting the Outcast at certain places. Toothless was one thing, but the dragons couldn't burn down the ship with Stoick on it. At least the Terrible Terror could fly.

_Bother! Of all the times for Dad to show how much he cares about me! Why can't he send me a Get-Well card or crush me in a bear hug!_

"Hiccup, I'm fine!" Stoick called, seeing his son's alarm. "I've wanted to do this for ages!"

Hiccup believed that, but he wasn't going to let his dad drown with hostile enemies. As it were, the other Outcasts tried to step into the fight, and Windwalker had to blast them into the water to keep them from taking down Stoick. Somehow an anchor tied to a rope swung in the air; boy, father and dragons had to dodge it. Stoick caught the rope, did some strange trick so that it wrapped around Alvin's thick hands, and tossed the anchor overboard. That also dragged Alvin into the cold water and gave Hiccup the opportunity to pick up his dad.

_"T-t-toothless is a hero!"_ The Terrible Terror cheered as he and the other dragons burned down the ship._ "T-t-toothless b-b-eat the bad Outcast! B-bit him on the-" _

_"Shut up,"_ the other dragons said simultaneously, though they seemed calmer. Windwalker tossed Stoick in the air so that the larger man landed behind Hiccup on the dragon's back. Hiccup scanned the water, searching for Alvin's body.

"We won for today," Stoick said, sensing what Hiccup was thinking. "Even if he's alive, he'll need to swim back to Outcast Island, and that will take a while. We already took care of his men on Berk, tied them to drifting boats."

Hiccup nodded. Still he scanned.

"Hiccup, what were you thinking? Mulch told me that you gave yourself up."

"A chief. Protects his people," Hiccup said with a touch of bitterness. "No Matter. What."

Stoick fell silent. That gave Hiccup the opportunity to ask his question.

"He. Killed. My Brother?" he asked softly. "Is that. True?"

Stoick didn't answer, but Hiccup could feel his dad's body tightening behind him.

"Let's go home, son. It's been a long night."

"And the dragons?"

"Saved our lives. They're welcome back on the island."

Only after that did Windwalker turn and make the trek back to Berk. So did Toothless and the other dragons with their riders. They flew back, cheering; Toothless did mid-air cartwheels.

_"Annoying little green weirdo," _Windwalker said.

_"B-b-b-blue b-bully," _Toothless shot back.

Hiccup didn't join in the cheering. He felt his stomach clench. He knew Alvin had survived the near-drowning, because if a runt could persist for hours in the waves, it wouldn't be too much trouble for a grown man.

Anger pooled again in his mind. He would kill Alvin personally, if the man dared show his face on Berk again. Lying, treacherous murderer.

As for Mildew? Hiccup was done with niceness. Nice words and gestures had gone nowhere. He'd be polite, of course, but no more going the extra mile. He'd find evidence that Mildew had tried to banish the dragons, had committed treason.

It is never wise to cross a nice, clever boy, especially one that can talk to dragons. Alvin had learned that the hard way.


End file.
